by Stacey

It would have been the perfect night if only Nick hadn’t shown up, some busty, blonde bimbo draped on his arm. He stopped in his tracks when he saw me, turned a bright shade of red, then high-tailed it out of there quick, dragging miss blonde bimbo along behind him. Lissie felt pretty bad about the whole scene, kept apologizing to me.

"I’m fine, really," I assured her. And I was, too. Its amazing how a good slice of pie can erase the embarrassment and heartache one feels when finding themselves face-to-face with their lying, cheating ex-boyfriend.

I shoved another forkful of the delicious, gooey pie into my mouth, savory every morsel of it before I washed it down with my iced tea. A slight smile of pleasure spread across my face. I was going to be okay, everything was going to okay.

The next morning, I packed up all my belongings and managed to squeeze them into my beat-up old Toyota Corolla, said my tearful good-byes to mom and dad and headed off into the sunset – destination: Marble Falls, Texas... and my beginning of my new life.

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Chapter 2:

Now, Marble Falls, Texas is not the place one fresh out of college would normally flock to. With a growing population of only 7200, it sits nestled in between the larger metropolitan cities of Austin and San Antonio on the banks of picturesque Lake Marble Falls. Beautiful country, especially compared to the flat, bayou city of Houston that I grew up in. Seeing how my new job was 47 or so miles away in Austin, I was quite happy that my great-aunt had agreed to put me up in her home.

As I made the drive through the winding roads that appeared to have been cut right out of the limestone hills that surrounded them, I couldn’t help but wonder to myself if I was doing the right thing. I was moving to a place I’d never been before, away from the only friends and family I’d ever known, to a new job and a great-aunt who I’d never met. More than once I toyed with the idea of turning the car around and heading back home, but then I’d remind myself that I was an adult now and this was the first step in making my own way in life.

By the time I pulled into the long dirt road that served as Aunt Jenny’s driveway, I’d resigned myself to the fact that this was it, there was no turning back.

My great-aunt’s house had been in the family for two generations, so I’d been told. Her grandfather, my great-great grandfather, had built the three-story home well before Jenny was born, just after the turn of the century. It was, in fact, one of the first homes ever built in the little town, and despite a bit of wear and tear it had held up pretty well over the years.

When Aunt Jenny’s father married her mom (my great-grand-parents), he moved his new bride into the family home, and soon afterwards began a family of their own. Aunt Jenny was the youngest of the 6 kids born to my great-grandparents, and sadly, she’s survived them all. As an only child, I couldn’t help but wonder what it must have been like for Aunt Jenny to grow up with so many siblings around to play with. I wondered if she’d been very close to any of them and if they’d all gotten along here in this big old house all those years ago. I could only imagine the pain and loneliness she must feel knowing that they are now all gone from her life.

As I headed up the creaky steps that lead up to the weather-worn front porch I suddenly recalled the old family photo I’d seen of my great Aunt standing here on this very porch – all dressed up in a white gloves and a pleated skirt, her wavy chestnut hair pinned back on the sides as she smiled heartily for the camera. She looked so happy here, so full of life. I wondered if she still had that sense about her as I stood poised ready to knock on the front door.

When the door suddenly opened, I got my answer. There in the doorway stood a mere shadow of the woman I’d seen in the photograph. Her hair had long since turned white and was piled half-hazzardly about her head in a rather old-schoolmarm fashion. Her clothes were drab as was her overall demeanor. The fire in her eyes had long since burned out, now replaced by a hard edge and a sense of sadness.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Aunt Jenny said, startling me, "come inside before you let all the cold air out."

"I...um... hi," I managed to squeak out, startled by her abruptness. I smiled, extending my hand to her, "I’m Emmie... your...um... great niece?"

Aunt Jenny just looked at it, "I know who you are," she said, as I pulled my hand back and carried my suitcase inside, "Expected you a bit sooner, dinner’s heating in the oven." She looked me over, as if inspecting me, "you can wash up first, got your own private bath upstairs. I don’t get up there much anymore, knees give out on me and all."

"Thanks," I said, heading towards the large staircase. I stopped at the bottom, turned, "which room is mine?"

"Your choice," Aunt Jenny replied, "like I said, I don’t get up there much anymore. Cleaning woman comes once a week, should be clean linens on all the beds. I don’t get any visitors nowadays, but I like to keep up the house just in case."

I smiled and headed up to the second floor, stopping to peek into each room as I went. The rooms were something one might expect to find in one of those fancy Bed and Breakfast Inns I’ve always dreamed of visiting. Unlike the bottom floor of the house, which had been clearly updated over the years, each room here was tastefully done in what must have been the original furniture and decor from when my great-aunt was a young girl.

Any of the three bedrooms I’d seen on the second floor would have served me just fine, but something inside me beckoned me to head up to the third floor instead. I stopped at the foot of the darkened stairway that lead up to the third floor attic bedroom and paused. I was never one to be fearful of anything, especially not the dark, so with suitcase in hand, up I trudged.

I fumbled around in the dark until I found the light-switch. The room was enormous, occupying the entire third floor. Obviously it had served as a spare bedroom in the past and even had its own private bath. This room, however, had clearly been neglected over the years and seemed to have come to serve as a storage room that it was originally designed to be. All of the furniture was covered with white sheets and over in the far corner there were several old boxes and steamer trunks, as well as various other miscellaneous items.

I set my suitcase down and did a little spin around to get the "feel" of the place. The white sheets on all the furniture gave it a bit of an ominous vibe so I quickly began pulling them off, one by one. It reminded me of wash day when I was a child and I’d help my mom change all the sheets on the beds in our house. I always pretended that as I pulled the sheets off the beds that they would suddenly turn into the wings of birds and that I could fly up with them into the air, soaring through the treetops. Of course, much to my dismay, our good old JC Penney practical bed sheets never once even managed to lift me in the slightest, though I was quite determined that some day, just some day maybe they would.

As each of the sheets in the attic bedroom fell to a heap on the floor, a wide smile began to spread across my face until finally, when the last sheet was off I could barely contain my joy. This was the room. Not just the room, but MY room. From the simple yet beautiful iron canopy bed to the ornate desk, vanity and matching wardrobe, this room was a young girl’s dream.

I sat on the edge of the bed, did a little bounce, just to check the mattress out, then scurried into the washroom to make sure all the plumbing still worked. Lucky for me, it all worked just fine, so I turned out the lights and quickly made my way back downstairs to dinner.

"’Bout time you made it back down here," my Aunt Jenny told me as I quietly slipped into the kitchen, "thought maybe you’d gotten lost or something. Wondered if I should send the hounds up after you."

I caught the slightest hint of a grin as she said this, and I couldn’t help but smile. Aunt Jenny apparently still had some of that wit down in her afterall.

"Just checking out the upstairs," I said, picking up the china plate my aunt had set out on the counter for me, "this place is amazing."

"Humph," Aunt Jenny replied, dumping a heaping helping of mashed potatoes on my plate, "So, which room did you end up picking for yourself?"

"The attic room," I paused, waiting for her reaction.

Aunt Jenny raised an eyebrow, "Interesting." She placed a piece of fried chicken on my plate, alongside of some peas and opened the refrigerator, grabbing the pitcher of iced tea and pouring a glass of it for each of us.

"Why is that?" I asked, sitting down across from her at the little wooden kitchen table.

"Well," she answered, "that was my room when I was a young girl." She took a sip of her tea, set the glass down on the table, "though, that was a long time ago, to be sure. Hasn’t been anyone up there in ages, not since my mama and daddy passed and left me this place."

"Its a beautiful room," I told her, not really knowing what else to say. I sat quietly eating my dinner for a few minutes, wondering if my decision in choosing to stay in the attic room was upsetting to my aunt. "If...if you’d rather I choose a different room...," I began, interrupting the awkward silence that had fallen between us.

"What? Oh, no, don’t be silly," Aunt Jenny replied, "its just a room. Like I said, you’re welcome to choose any one you want. Just thought perhaps you mighta chosen one of the others that was more... well... guest-ready, I suppose."

"Oh, I’d be more than happy to set everything up in there myself, no worries," I assured her.

"Well, seeing how I ain’t got no intentions of climbing them stairs anytime soon, you’ll have to if you wanna sleep up there," she half-chuckled, rising from her seat to clear her empty plate from the table. "Which reminds me," she turned to look at me, "I expect that while you’re living here that you keep up with your share of the chores. That includes doing your own dishes and laundry and such. I don’t mind you living here but I ain’t nobody’s maid."

"Of course, Aunt Jenny," I assured her, "I’m more than happy to pull my own weight around here. I’ll even chip in for groceries and utilities, its the least I can do for your kindness at taking me in like this."

She nodded, then busied herself with the dishes. I finished my food, put my dishes away, then quietly excused myself. I still had the majority of my belongings out in my car and I wanted to get them upstairs to my new room before it got too dark outside.

After several trips out to the car and hauling boxes and bags up to my room, I was finally all moved in. Now the hard part came – getting the room fit for habitation.

While I was in between my various trips up and down the stairs, my Aunt had kindly set out a fresh set of bed linens and towels for me, along with a basket of toiletries, leaving them on a small, sideboard table near the bottom of the stairs. There was a small, hand-written note lying on top of them which simply read: Welcome.

I smiled at the simplicity of it, knowing that just that one word neatly printed out meant much, much more than anything my aunt could have ever verbalized. Welcome. So simple yet so very telling.

I scooped up the items and turned to thank Aunt Jenny for her thoughtfulness, then got a start when I heard the sudden sound of her bedroom door closing. I walked over to it, hesitating before I finally knocked.

"Yeah?" she called out from her closed bedroom door.

"I...um... just wanted to thank you and wish you a good night," I stammered, awkwardly.

"Night," came her short reply.

I waited a moment, wondering if I should say anything more, then quietly headed up the stairs to my new room.

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Chapter 3:

Sleep didn’t come very easily for me that first night in that big old house. After setting up the bed and having a long soak in the huge iron claw-foot tub, I found that my mind wouldn’t let me rest. After about half an hour of tossing and turning, I gave up on sleep and decided to start clearing out space for myself in Aunt Jenny’s old desk, it being the perfect spot for a budding writer such as myself.

I wasn’t used to going to bed so early, having spent many a late night either studying or working on various writing projects or even just surfing the net. Now that I’d graduated, however, I could actually research and write about things that interested me. Well, when I wasn’t working on articles for my new job, that is.

I’d forgotten to ask Aunt Jenny if she had internet connection here, but somehow, by the looks of things, I quite doubted it. Even the old wall sockets in the room looked suspiciously out of code to me. I sighed, casting my laptop a look and thinking to myself I might as well leave it packed until I could get an electrician out here to have a look at the wiring. In the meantime, guess any writing I planned on doing would be longhand.

I pulled the little wooden desk chair out from under the desk and sat down. It wasn’t the most ergonomically correct of chairs, but it’d do. I wondered if Aunt Jenny had spent many waking hours sitting here at this very little desk when she was a young girl and I smiled thinking of her back then. She’d looked so very happy in all those old family photos, yet the woman that I’d met here earlier tonight was anything but happy. I wondered why she’d changed, why she’d chosen a life of solitude. The investigator in me had to find out, had to know more about what made my Aunt Jenny tick.

As I opened the first of the 4 little desk drawers, I held my breath, wondering what little bits of treasure from my Aunt Jenny’s past I might stumble upon in them. Sadly, to my dismay, each drawer was completely empty, not even a single shred of paper to be found. I sat a moment, remembering all the old boxes and trunks stacked neatly over in the far corner of the room. Surely there’d be some clues to my aunt’s past in those, I thought to myself as I pushed myself out from the desk and tiptoed over to them.

I paused a moment, chastising myself for snooping in my aunt’s belongings without permission, and I quietly shuffled back over to my bed and crawled beneath the sheets. I sat there a moment, deciding whether or not to give in to my curiosity or to just turn out the light and try again to sleep. I picked up my cell phone and stared at it, wondering if Lissie was home from work yet, then remembered it was Saturday, her late shift, and decided to wait and call her tomorrow on her day off. I sighed, setting my cell phone back down on the bedside table. Finally, after deciding I was definitely too awake and wired to sleep, I settled on reading for a while.

Aunt Jenny had quite a large collections of old books up here, and I didn’t think she’d mind me borrowing one, so I slid back out of my bed and padded over to the large bookshelves that lined the back wall of the attic. I stood there in front of the cases, letting my fingers lightly trail over the worn spines of each book, until finally I came to one that interested me. It was a small, leather-bound book, quite old by the looks of it. I carried it back over to my bed to have a proper look at it. The bindings were quite fragile with age, I noticed, so I was very careful as I opened the front cover. As I delicately turned to the first page I was surprised to find a single, pressed flower – a Forget-Me-Not, by the looks of it, and a hand-written note which read:

To my darling Jenny,

As that noble knight did toss his true love a single poppy to remember him by as he went off to face his death, a symbol of his everlasting love, on the eve of my departure I give to you this flower, so that you will know that in my heart so shall you reside.

Always and Forever yours,

Alex

Alex. Hmm... so there had been someone in my aunt’s life at one time, after all. A smile spread across my face as I sat and reread those beautiful hand-written words over and over again. I wondered to myself where this Alex had gone off to. The War, perhaps? Seemed likely, given the time period of when my aunt would have been a young girl around my age.

I carefully flipped through more pages of the worn book, trying to find anymore about Aunt Jenny or the man who had loved her. The book itself was an illustrated poem by the same name, Forget-Me-Not. I lay there in my bed, reading the sad little tale about a young man who, on the eve of his departure for war, vows to return one day and marry his true love. Sadly, on the young man’s return, unbeknownst to his waiting bride-to-be, his boat crashes upon the shores, and he is lost forever beneath the sea.

As I got to the last page, I was surprised to find an old black and white photograph tucked neatly between it and the back cover. The photo was of a young man, early twenties maybe, quite handsome. I turned the photo over, on the back in small type was written, A. Ross, August, 1941. A. Ross... I thought to myself, turning the photo in my hand once more. So this was Alex... Aunt Jenny’s Alex.

I ran my finger over it, lightly tracing the outline of his face. He had a straight nose and brow, dimpled chin, tender yet intense eyes that seemed to twinkle as he smiled. He was beautiful and I could so see how my aunt could have easily fallen for him.

I set the little book along with the photo on the bedside table and turned off the lamp. As I lay there in the dark, I wondered if the same fate that had happened to the young man in the book may have happened to this man, Alex, who had loved my Aunt Jenny so many years earlier. I fell asleep dreaming about the two lovers from so long ago, imagining them now reunited and dancing together in the heavens.

The next morning, I woke early, dressed, and headed downstairs. I found my Aunt Jenny standing at the stove in the kitchen. I stopped just short of entering, observing her for a moment, lost in her task of cooking breakfast. I smiled, imagining her as a young girl, standing there in her pretty dress, her hair loose and trailing down her back. I wondered if she’d ever cooked a meal for the man from the photo I’d found – Alex.

I stepped in closer, just in the doorway, "Morning," I told her cheerfully.

She turned, nodded at me, "Mornin’ back," she said, flipping over one of the hotcakes she was busy cooking, "Sleep okay up there in that old attic?"

"Yeah, yeah I did," I told her, "well, once I finally got to sleep, anyway."

"Well, don’t just stand there," Aunt Jenny said, half-grinning, "come on in and have a seat at the table. Breakfast is about ready. Hope you like scrambled eggs and hotcakes, cuz that’s what I made."

I smiled, pulled out a kitchen chair and had a seat. "My favorite," I told her, then politely added, "is there anything I can do to help?"

"Get us both something to drink," she said, stirring the eggs, "there’s coffee over on the counter there and fresh orange juice in the fridge. Both for me, please."

"Sure," I said, then set about getting our drinks and setting them on the table. By the time I’d finished, Aunt Jenny had our breakfast on plates and was just sitting down at the table to eat.

"This all smells so good," I commented, taking my seat across from my aunt.

"Tastes good too," she replied, after swallowing a bite, "dig in."

We sat there quietly eating a moment, savoring our morning breakfast. Aunt Jenny had the morning paper folded in front of her and worked on the crosswords as she ate. Finally, she noticed me watching her, smiled slightly, "When’s that new job of yours starting up?" she asked, not taking her eyes off her paper.

"Not for another two weeks," I told her, "The boss figured he’d give me time to get settled first."

"Hmm," Aunt Jenny replied, scooping another fork-full of eggs into her mouth.

"Thought after breakfast I might tackle unpacking some more of my things," I said, "didn’t get too far with it last night."

She nodded, kept at her crosswords. I hesitated a moment, then went on, "Which reminds me, I wanted to ask you what I should do with all those old boxes and trunks up there. Should I leave them or, if you like, I could carry them down to one of the other rooms."

"Old boxes?" Aunt Jenny asked, thinking for a moment, "Oh, them, well, do whatever you like with them, dear, I’ve got no use for any of that stuff in my life no more anyhow. Feel free to go through and take whatever you like, the rest can just be thrown out or donated I suppose. Been meaning to clear out that stuff for years, just never got around to it."

"Oh," I said, finally finding a way to breach the subject, "by the way, I borrowed one of those old books from the bookshelf up in my room..."

"Good," Aunt Jenny said, standing to carry her plate over to the sink, "Books are meant to be read. Got a lot of good ones up there, too, glad someone can finally get some enjoyment from them again."

She walked over to the sink and I followed with my plate, "Yeah... well," I cleared my throat, "this one particular old book I found is quite beautiful. Its an illustrated poem..."

Aunt Jenny turned on the water in the sink, began rinsing her plate, "Yeah? I got a lot of old poetry books up there." I noticed a catch in her voice, though, as if she knew exactly which book I was referring to.

I hesitated a moment, then continued, "Well, as I was flipping through this particular book, I happened to find something quite interesting..."

"What’s that?" she asked, scrubbing away at her breakfast plate in the sink.

"I found an inscription along with an old pressed flower from someone named Alex."

"Don’t recall anyone by that name," Aunt Jenny said tensely, "hand me your plate, please, so I can get these dishes done."

I looked at her, noticing the nervousness in her voice and the way her hand shook as I handed her my plate. "I found this picture in the back of the book," I said, pulling out the old photo I’d stuffed in my back pocket before I’d come downstairs.

Aunt Jenny took one look at it, her eyes wide, and the plate slipped from her hand, crashing to the floor and shattering into a million pieces. "I’m sorry," she said, her anguished voice barely more than a whisper, as she fought back the tears welling up in the corners of her eyes.

"No, no," I told her, quickly scrambling to grab the broom and dustpan, "its all my fault, really. Here, please, let me get this for you." I shoved the photo back into my pocket and frantically began to clean up the mess, careful to get up every single piece of the broken china.

Aunt Jenny just stood there, a painful, faraway look on her face.

After I’d finished cleaning up, I sat my aunt down at the table, then went over to the sink and finished washing the dishes and putting them away for her. Once I’d put away the last of the dishes, I walked over and sat down across my aunt.

"I’m sorry," I said quietly, "I shouldn’t have sprung that on you."

"I’m fine," Aunt Jenny said, blotting her eyes with a napkin, "Sometime the past has a way of sneaking up on you is all. No use comes to those who dwell on it, though. Now," she said, a bit more cheerfully, "how about you go on upstairs and work on that room of yours while I see about getting the rest of my chores done?" She stood up and motioned for me to head upstairs.

"If you’re sure you’re okay," I told her, still a bit concerned. I wanted to question her more about Alex, but didn’t want to upset her anymore than I had. Clearly, whether she’d admit it or not, this man had meant a lot to her.

"I’m fine, really," she tried to assure me, ushering me out of the kitchen and towards the stairway.

I managed a smile for her, nodded, then headed up to my room, determined to find out more about this mysterious aunt of mine.

She stood there a moment, watching as I went up the stairs, the faraway look still in her eyes. As I got to the top floor, I thought I heard her softly repeat, "I’m... fine."

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